


heartbeats.

by breezyArtii2an



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse of Quest Bed for Sexy Times, Alternate Timeline Deaths, Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Characters are between 16 and 18, Endgame AU, Existential Angst, F/M, Game Over Timeline, Healthy Polyamory, Interdimensional Romance, Interpretation of Heart and Time Powers, M/M, Multiple Universes, Post-Game AU, Reader-Insert, Romantic entanglements, Sburb Shenanigans, Self-Indulgent, Timeline Confusion, Vignettes, You and Dirk are bffs, star-crossed lovers, warnings for gratuitious smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:46:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9264401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breezyArtii2an/pseuds/breezyArtii2an
Summary: You are the SYLPH OF HEART. Some time ago, a TURNTECHGODHEAD pinged your Pesterchum by mistake. Dave lives in an alternate, parallel universe--but when you begin to dream together, in the vast reaches in the dream bubbles, you begin a love fated for nothing but pain for the both of you.It never hurts to dream, though. Just for a little longer.{a highly, highly self-indulgent drabble series from the point of view of a sad heart player doomed to a long distance romance reaching far through paradox space.}





	1. lonely?

Dave looks out on the expanse. The two of you are standing on the second floor balcony of your childhood home, an older Victorian house of white and blue that you fancy has been through as much hell in its lifetime as you have. The house remains, though, amidst the fields of black grass and fireflowers and the dim haze of the volcano. The white wood of the banister is stained with soot, even in dreams. You wonder, distantly, if the soot would ever wash away, or if the wood was forever stained by this world, much like yourself.

"This world looks pretty lonely." Dave says, breaking the companionable quiet between you. You nod. 

"It's more lively in real life, by far," you answer. The cold silence is a stark contrast to the constant chatter of your consorts, or the warm light radiating like sun rays over your skin, or the steady bu-bump pulse from Hestia's hearth.

"Were you lonely, though?" He asks, faux casual, as he stretches. His back pops. 

"Yeah," you answer, sincere and dishonest in that same way. "But I had dreams to keep me company." You look at him meaningfully. He colors under your penetrating gaze, the red dancing nicely underneath his freckles.

"Sylph of Hearts and you couldn't heal your own?" He mumbles, avoiding the subject. He's embarrassed, you can tell by the way he shifts his stance and scratches his nose, even if he fronts and tries to play it cool. You smile, though.


	2. land of frenzy and hearth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dave asks about the planet.

You're laying down together in the grass, staring up at the radiant sky. It’s as peach as the color you dyed your bangs, once, on a whim, before the Game. It’s as peach as the sky, during summer, as you used to look at the twilight and laugh as you and your friends drove past the lake.

"I miss sunlight." You murmur, reaching up to the expanse, where peach fades to faint periwinkle and violet at the edges in the volcano’s haze, in a mimicry of old sunsets.

"The sun's nice in Cali, right? It was a bitch back in Texas. Used to get hot as all hell, in Houston. Hotter than Satan’s ball sack, to be precise." Dave says, and you laugh.

"It could get fucking hot, depending where in the state you lived, especially in the summer, but probably not Satan’s left nut hot, no. In the springtime, and the autumn, though? It was lovely." You sigh happily and rest your hand on your chest. "I miss the sun and I miss the moon. All the warmth and light here comes from Hestia's hearth."

Dave presses further into those black blades of grass, if possible. The lush, bountiful land is fertilized by the rich, rich soil due to Hestia's hearth. It's almost symbolic, the way the scarred land once ravished by scorching fire has blossomed into such a paradise. 

"It's awesome," Dave mumbles. When you glance at him you see a faint smile on his lips. "Your planet, it’s like Eden. Like you kicked down God's door and said fuck you, this town is mine and camped out right there. Forbidden fruit, fuck that, you made a goddamn pie out of those apples and told God to stuff it." 

You laugh at him. "I guess you could say that. I was thinking more of the Greek equivalent... Elysium, or something. Since it seems all the Denizens are from old mythos." You sit up, looking out at the plains and fruit trees and glowing flowers.

"Your planet's boss. S’like a place you can actually live in. Mine's just lava and gears. And Hephaestus, fuck that guy," Dave says, then pauses for a moment to raise his head. His shades are pushed up to the top of his head, and the look on his face, in a word, is calculating. "What's the deal with your land, anyway?" 

"It's the Land of Frenzy and Hearth." You declare proudly, gesturing out around you with both arms. "It didn't look like this when I first got here. It was an absolute wasteland, because of the volcanic ash and the fucking lava, and there was this godawful haze everywhere. My consorts were struggling to survive in the caverns, but they were lively and tenacious.”

“Yeah, those little guys are dumber than dumb, but they’re a resilient little bunch.” He agrees, shaking his head. You snicker, thinking of the little red crocodiles he described as putting him in a soup pot once. You turn your attention back to Dave as he asks another question.

“So what was your quest, or whatever? I had to forge a sword, John had to get rid of the mist or some shit, Jade had the frog or whatever… what was yours?”

You hummed in thought. You hadn’t put a thought to that since you first entered the game four years ago. You huffed--that had been put in a box of Past You, versus the present. No matter. Not like that stuff can hurt you anymore. “Well,” you begin, “According to the lore of the game, they had to sacrifice someone every day to Hestia's hearth to appease her to keep it running or she would burn the planet. My Quest was to appease or slay Hestia to bring Life to this land." 

"You obviously succeeded." Dave stated, pulling some of the grass up by the roots. “No lava here.”

"Yeah. I did. I made a deal with my Denizen that changed everything. Hestia was nice. Pleasant, even. I talk to her sometimes. She's very good at conversation. Anyway, the choice she gave me was pretty fair. I could fight her for the Hearth and learn to control it on my own, I could allow things to remain as they were, or I could sacrifice something of my own to appease her with. So I chose to sacrifice something of mine, and she wanted my heart. I said yeah okay. And she killed me." You laugh at the memory, at the irony.

"So yeah, I died, Hestia used my heart to give life to the hearth and bless the land, and my consorts dutifully carried my bloodied corpse to my quest bed, and so I godtiered in a flashy show." 

Dave stared at you, obviously horrified.

"... what the fuck. Does that mean that the pulsing I keep hearing is--" 

"Yep. My heart." 

"And all this--" he gestures at the lushness of LOFAH, "--this is all thanks to your heart?" 

"Yep," you answer, popping the p. 

He looks at you, baffled. "What the actual fuck?" For once, he didn’t veer off on a tangent or splutter metaphors.

"Hey, just be glad I'm alive," you laugh, smiling brightly. "I was supposed to die for real, that was supposed to be the deal, I guess? But I still hadn't god tiered, and I think I still had a living dream self? Not that anyone would come around and kiss my sorry dead ass." You grin at him, like you had told a really good joke. "So, I guess I cheated SBurb out of my death." 

"Or maybe it cheated you." Dave shrugs. "Game has a habit of doin’ that. You’re all up and ready to face your imminent mortality and the game decides that nah, dude, you can’t quit. Get back in the ring, champ, keep fighting for the title bout, even though you both know it’s all rigged anyway. Then when you’re like, shit, dude, let’s be wrestlers, and you’re all up and ready to pick up what the game is putting down, you’re Real Dead. Either way. I'm glad you're not dead. Freaky as your story is." 

You lay back down, wrapping your arms around him. He automatically reciprocates, his cheek resting in your hair.

"I'm glad too. I wouldn't have gotten to meet you otherwise." 

He sputters a bit and, instead of replying, presses a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah. That’s kinda important.”

You laugh, even as your heart aches as you think back on Hestia’s Ultimatum.


	3. meteor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dave and karkat's growing closeness leaves a certain someone feeling insecure.

TG: so im here on the meteor  
TG: not even sure really how im able to message you but i am so  
TG: anyway im here on the meteor  
TG: with my sister and the trolls i told you about  
TG: coexisting  
TG: and its really fucking weird?  
BA: ~~I bet. I mean, they're aliens. Like. Can't get any weirder than that, babe.  
BA: ~~It was weird enough for me to meet my gamemates, who I've known since puberty.  
BA: ~~But you're meeting your sister and random aliens in person, and in a few years you get to meet your bro and stuff?  
BA: ~~ Like, that's insane. And awesome. I'm actually pretty jealous. All I get is this weird mess of romantic entanglements and Hestia being overbearing all the time.  
BA: ~~Your adventure sounds like fun! Minus the big green ragemonster.  
TG: yeah that guys a total douche  
TG: its pretty cool i guess  
TG: but pretty jarring  
TG: i feel like tarzan up in this shit  
TG: bro wasn't exactly a teacher of social conduct  
TG: so here i am all up and feeling civilized as shit  
TG: vocabulary limited to grunts and groans and the occasional coherent um  
TG: its just weird i guess since i havent really been around this many people for a while  
TG: and according to roses plan well i have to get used to it fast  
BA: ~~I'm sorry.  
BA: ~~Maybe find a little Dave Corner so you can decompress on your own for a while? Do something that takes your mind off it, babe!  
TG: why do you think im talkin to you right now  
BA: ~~ Aw! <3  
TG: yeah <3 back at ya 

* * *

 It starts like that, innocently enough.  Dave trying to integrate himself into the weird little group he now found himself a part of, in a meteor hurtling through space at a ridiculous speed.  You worry for him, but he assures he is doing well.  There is Rose--who occasionally types a curt, polite greeting and cursory smalltalk to you in Dave's window--who keeps an eye on him, and that's all you can ask for, for now.  Sure, there's the murderclown, but you can't help but think that Dave's Heroic death won't come from a fucking juggalo.

Then he messages you again.

* * *

TG: so im here on the meteor  
TG: as i have explained a plenty  
BA: ~~Plentier than a box of Good and Plenty's, babe.   
TG: yeah like  
TG: three boxes full  
TG: anyway so like remember that douche i told you about  
BA: ~~That shouty dude, right?  
BA: ~~The one from penis ouija?  
TG: exactly that guy  
TG: nubby mcshouty himself  
TG: so the guy isnt that bad i guess  
BA: ~~Oh??? 0~0?  
TG: yeah i get stuck with him a lot  
TG: cuz tz is off doin her own thing i guess eating chalk dust or something  
TG: rose and kanaya are being gay  
TG: and the clown guy... ugh  
TG: fucking juggalos  
TG: thats all there is to say on that matter  
TG: so by default its just me and nubs  
TG: his troll movies are atrocious but once he get past all the vitriol hes not that bad i guess 

 

* * *

 

The two of you are on LOFAH again. Dave's telling you a story about his friends on the meteor. You listen, laughing at his antics and quipping when suitable. But then, you fall silent, and your lips press into a thin line.   
  
"Dave." You begin, and he looks at you. "Dave, I need to talk to you."   
  
He stops talking and glances over. You catch your reflection in his shades.   
  
"Well hell, what's up? Come on and spill the beans. Spill them so hard like, clean up in aisle 10, the beans are all over this shit."   
  
You laugh and elbow him. "You dork. But yeah, just sit there and listen, I just.. want to make sure that you're picking up what I'm putting down."   
  
He stares at you and you smile uneasily. "Dave, you know I love you, right? And I support everything you do." He nods, his brow furrowing. You swallow, trying to summon your courage.   
  
"Dave, I think you're in love with Karkat."   
  
He stares at you in absolute shock. His lips struggle to form words. He whips his shades off, gifting you a gaze of full red to your brown.   
  
"I just wanted to say, Dave, I know you really well now, and when you talk about Karkat, you get.. all soft. The same way when you talk to me, you know? You spend every day with Karkat. And if you love him, that's okay. He makes you happy. Be with him!" You urge. "It'd be stupid if we believed we could keep this up..." You bite your lip, looking down at your hands, the grass. "Dave, I just want you to be happy, and you look like you've been happier than ever talking to him, and... I really, really love you. So like, I'm not asking you to choose, I'm just saying... don't let me keep you from loving someone else." You try to smile reassuringly.   
  
Dave blinks at you. And then he blinks again. His eyes just glaze over and he looks into the distance. You bring your knees to your chest and he rips the grass up from its roots. The silence stretches between the two of you, like a yawning chasm, and you're frightened, frightened as fuck that he's going to leave you too, just like Rian, like Mike, you're a Sylph of Heart but you can't heal their deaths or  yourself--   
  
You're hyperventilating.   
  
Dave wraps his arms around you. He hums soothingly to you, rubs your back and makes gentle noises to calm you. Your breathing calms, slowly.   
  
"Sorry." You breathe. "That hasn't happened for a while."   
  
"S'okay. Sometimes you flip your shit like a neat omelet, sometimes you flip it and suddenly there's eggs all over the pan and stove and you've gotta scrub that shit out before it stains." He mumbles back. You chuckle. You're about to say something when he presses a finger to your lips.   
  
"All right, it's your turn to all up and listen up because I'm only gonna say this once. You listening?" He waits. You nod. Apparently satisfied, he continues.   
  
"I been thinking a lot about life and shit. The world a la 2009 and the way we used to act and all that crap. And maybe you're right. Maybe I am gay as hell for Karkat. I woulda been pretty bent out of shape over that a la 2009 Dave but this is the new and improved Dave of now. Thing is babe, I think I've come to terms that shit happens. You love who you love, that happens and you can't help it.  So I guess with the shit you said in mind, I guess I've got some mad thinking to do.   But like. If I love Karkat, well, fuck, I haven't stopped loving you and I don't think I will. So like, logistically, that's kind of a problem, yeah? But like. I wanna be your man, too. So... if it's cool with everyone involved... maybe. We could try something different. Because fuck typical monogamist conventions. Now wait the fuck up, I'm not trying to be some pig. if you're happy and in love, what the fuck matters? I love you. I might love him. And if y'all are cool with that.. maybe we could be happy."   
  
You look up at Dave, and your eyes are glittering with tears. Of course, you laugh softly, you hadn't quite counted on the fact that Dave, in fact, still loves you.  Stupid, your brain wheedles you, why did we overreact?  You look into Dave's honest eyes and you wonder what the future could hold.  You didn't get to study anything about Earth sexuality before the game blew it all to hell--you were too young--but Dave has a point in saying that convention doesn't matter here.  What is love but the purest thing in the world, and who were either of you to try and deny each other fulfilling love?  You're uncertain of where this train of thought is taking you but you speak before you have the nerve to stop yourself.

"We could be happy," you whisper back. "I want us to be happy. We can make this work. I don't know how this is gonna work yet, and truth be told I know it's gonna be tough to adjust, but you know what?" Your lips lift into a smile. "Love is hard and love takes work, but we can this shit happen, Dave!" You exclaim in excitement.   
  
Dave grins back at you. "Yeah, hell yeah we could. And like... hell... maybe you fall in love with somebody in your sesh. If they're cool, well shit, let's be Mormons with fucking sister wives and shit, like goddamn, spread the love like we're hippies or whatever right." He looks at you thoughtfully. "Maybe that Noah guy would be good for you, babe."   
  
You swallow hard, a blush on your face. "No, no. Ridiculous. We're just bros."   
  
Dave laughed. "S'what I thought about Karkat, till you blew my mind just now." He points out. You shrug.   
  
"So we'll make it work?" You ask. Dave presses a kiss to your temple.   
  
"Fuck yeah we will. We are gonna cross that bridge when we get there so hard that the bridge is gonna be pissed for weeks."  You squint at him.  That was a shit metaphor.  He coughs delicately, and says more eloquently, "Shit, let's be lovers."   
  
You laugh.   
  
Later he sends you a sweet bro and hella jeff comic with the same title. 


	4. echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the past casts shadows. you deal with the consequences. for yourself... and for dave.

It's the nature of your powers as a heart player to dance among the timelines, as the soul is inherently connected to and tethered to different timelines, decisions, bodies, and the like.  One person, you have discovered, can have many selves--not just across the multiverse, but even in one single timeline.  But you've tethered yourself to this reality, this iteration of You as the Sylph of Heart, and thus, your memories associated with the current you have been haunting your dreams in between rendezvous with Dave.  You catch snippets in your fitful sleep.

* * *

  
__ You're laying on the floor feeling too exposed, vulnerable. There he is, he lays next to you and God, you think, in the thunderous silence, what the hell have I gotten myself into.    
  
You move to get dressed.   
  
_He lets you._   
  
  
...   
  
__ It's movie night and you're laying in Rian's lap. You're hurt and angry and all sorts of sad. It burns you to the core. You feel him underneath you, tense and uncomfortable like he really doesn't want to be there. He doesn't move, though, doesn't say a word to you, just pretends you aren't even there.   
  
You sit up and move to sit in a corner on your own.  You won't last much longer together, you think.   
  
He lets you.   
  
...   
  
__ You're not sure how you and Noah ended up alone together but it happened.   
  
Your eyes are red and puffy and his are solemn. He pats your back as you try to understand where you went wrong with Rian, how you couldn't save him, how he died, how you ended up on a dead planet with nothing but fire and unwelcoming ash and you're terrified without your brother or your ex boyfriend.

__  
You look up and into his eyes. His gaze is gentle and sorrowful. He gazes at you tenderly, a great compassion reflected back at you. He murmurs an apology.   
  
You excuse yourself and run away.   
  
He lets you.   
  
...   
  
__ You're not known for making good choices so maybe that's why you find yourself in Dick's arms.   
  
He's in the bed next to you, his own thoughts unreadable in the darkness, but you can feel it in the air between you.   
  
You turn away, bite your thumb.   
  
You hate that you are in bed with him, but you're looking for something, anything, to tell you that you're alive.    
  
You're not sure you found it here.   
  
...   
  
When you come to again, Dave has his arms around you and you're leaning together against the trunk of a tree.   
  
You stare blankly into the distance and try to gather yourself as your heart aches, aches, aches as it has ever since you gave part of it up to Hestia.   
  
You find it hard to breathe under the weight of these thoughts hammering into your chest like a jackhammer. Your lip quivers as you struggle to clear your mind.    
  
Your mind swims with every mistake you've ever made, and every unsettled part of yourself that splintered off with some misguided intent of love.   
  
You get up to run away. Dave holds fast to you. You struggle, sobbing that you need to get away. He murmurs to you. He holds you as you cry. Your restlessness settles away and you calm.   
  
Finally someone grounds you and makes you feel centered. Like you're home.  You take a deep breath, the fog that descended in your breakdown clearing for clarity.   
  
"So you wanna talk about it?" he asked. "You don't have to.  Just, might help, or so Rose says." 

You take a deep breath, and explain your dreams, of ghosts and mistakes.

"So you used to love Rian," Dave begins, as he combs through your hair, his nails on your scalp a soothing scritch-scratch that makes you feel warm. "But Hestia made you give that up?"    
  
"Yeah, um. Kinda." you lick your lips, trying to moisten your suddenly dry mouth. Your heart is pounding and you feel a bit faint. You always feel this stress response when it comes to talking about Rian and what happened. You bite your lip. It's still rough to talk about, but you do need to work through what Hestia did to you. "It was my Choice. Sacrifice my Heart to power her Hearth, or kill Hestia and figure it out on my own. I didn't want anyone else to die, Dave, I.." you take a shaky breath. "So much death. I'm a healer, but not that kind of healer." You look over at him. "Rian was supposed to be the game's Life player but. He never made it in. I got the game instead." You look at Dave. His understanding shows in the downturn of his mouth.   
  
"His blood was on my hands, I loved him so much, it fucked me up bad. When I made my choice, I was fully prepared to die. Like. For real. I messaged my best friend Noah, I told him I loved him and that I was so sorry and I... took the deal. It didn't even hurt. But.. I remember, trying to breathe, and I just couldn't..." you clutch your chest, reassured by the steady beating of your heart. "I was... startled, when I awoke and I godtiered..."    
  
You were quiet for a while and Dave scratches your scalp sympathetically.    
  
"The worst was when I god tiered. After the planet had blossomed into life like this. The life symbol, all of Rian, it just faded away and turned into my symbol. And I felt nothing. Why did I feel nothing?" You bite your lip. "A-and when I asked Hestia she just laughed. "You made your choice, dearie." She'd said, and then she'd gone back to her hearth and I ran, so far... I kept going like that until I finally broke down in tears and I stayed in bed for a week. Noah was fucking pissed."

"Shit, I'd be too if any of my friends pulled that shit. Or if you did that for me." He cups your cheek. "How do you feel now?"

"Better. But back then, whatever she did... It numbed me out emotionally for a long time.  I had to master my godtier powers before I fixed my emotions, dude, it fucking sucked.  I guess I ave PTSD or something from it.  And even now, I don't love Rian like I did then, I don't feel a lot of things I should--It's like... it's distant, it's all muffled, it's just a dull ache right here 'cuz... he's dead." You sigh. 

"I get that." Dave's mouth tightens. "My bro..." He sighs, too, and he turns his head away.  You turn him back to face you.

"You don't have to talk about it yet, if you're not ready."

"I'm not," He laughs dully. "I'm not sure I ever will be."

You sit up and envelop him in a hug.  "We all got issues.  You just saw mine."

"Yeah." Dave rests his forehead on your shoulder. "I got a bunch of them, too."

"We'll deal with them together?" You ask, rubbing his back.  He hums in agreement.  You suppose that's the best you can get out of him for now.  You know better than to push Dave, lest he flip his shit.  He'll come around in time, and you know you need to respect that.  You're glad he was there to help you through your flipped shit just now--though it will take more than one quick conversation to work through the things that still haunt you like cobwebs stuck to your skin, you know that opening up is the first step.

* * *

 

The first step for Dave is unconventional, and you're not sure you like it.  But.  You, supportive as ever, help as you can.

It's timelines that are fucking with him, fucking with his Heart and putting a burden on his soul.  You can see it, twisting in knots in a red aura that writhes in pain like a tentaclebeast.  

"Can you," he swallows, "Can you try using your Heart powers?" 

You ask him, again and again and again, if he's certain about this.  He's adamant every time.  

As you use your powers to heal his soul, you begin to see glimpses of another lifetime. This, you know, is completely normal--it is only natural for you to be able to see the cracks and splinters which you are healing.    
  
Most of them are the same, generally. His game, his friends, a broken time loop, a dead Dave. Occasionally it's the Green Sun and the payload. Sometimes it's English. Once it's the burning of dying, sacrificing himself into a sprite. Most of them end the same--a dead, miserable Dave whose pain weighs heavy on the alpha Dave, who must learn from each and every splinter's mistakes.   
  
In the infinity of these dead Daves, whose experiences mean everything and nothing in the vastness of Paradox Space, barely a handful of them have you in it. Some timelines have you older, younger, playing with different friends, having different lovers. You, you realize, are an anomaly in this Dave's life.  And the timelines that ache the most for him, that are breaking him so much, are the ones that you... died.   
  
"Oh." You whisper, halting in your work.   
  
Dave doesn't meet your eyes.   
  
"Dave..." you venture, squeezing his hand. He closes his eyes and slips his shades down. You study his face closely, his clenched jaw and twitching cheeks, the way a tear slowly rolls down his face. He devolves into sobs, and you quickly bring him into your chest for comfort.   
  
"Damn it." His voice shakes. "It scares me, all right, it fucking scares me. Stupid shit in my game, in my timeline, I can do some time shit and fix. It ain't easy and it hurts like a bitch, like, I'm the fucking ho and time is the pimp that gave me a lazy eye, but goddammit time is my whole shtick or whatever. In your game I can do fuckall. You die and. I can't do shit. All I got is this,  all I got is us in these goddamn dream bubbles."   
  
"I know. It scares me too." You whisper back. "You saw it before, when you god tiered? My greatest fear is waking up here and... You're already dead." You squeeze him. "Dave we knew from the start what a stupid idea it would be to be together. We are literally starcrossed lovers. We come from different universes, different times, different games. If we make it out, if we beat our games, we'll never see each other again."   
  
"I don't wanna think about it."   
  
"Dave.." you cup his face in your hands. "Dave, baby. I love you... but..."   
  
"But what?" He demands. "But fucking what? We're gods, for fuck's sake, don't we deserve some divine cosmic happiness or whatever. Or something. Jesus, ain't we been all about giving this game a big fuck you?" He asks desperately. You look away. "You were supposed to die for Hestia's choice, you were supposed to be miserable and soulless, but nah, you god tiered and you found me."   
  
"It's not that simple Dave." You try to find the right words to say this. "This is why I pushed you towards Karkat, Dave." You press your forehead to his. "Baby, I don't want you to spend a whole lifetime searching for a lover who won't remember you."   
  
Dave shook his head. "No, no, I'll search all of Paradox Space if I have to." He squeezes your arms, panic making his hands shake. "What we've got--we've got something real."    
  
You sob. "I--That's all I've ever wanted--but we've been doomed from the start."   
  
"No! No fuck that, fuck all of that." He thumbs away your tears. "Baby, if you die then I will follow you into the dark. I'll search in the dream bubbles for you forever."

* * *

 

This is the last time you talk to Dave. After this, his meteor arrives at its destination, and your friends urge you to focus on beating your own game. 

You think of Dave, and those last words he spoke, as you fly towards Skaia.


	5. reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes you have to cut your losses. sometimes moving forward means you can never, ever look back.

You stand on the platform. The world awaits you. The Reward is there.  The Black King defeated, finally, and you and your friends, in various places of your echeladder, god-tiered and not, are finally, finally placed with a prospective future.   
  
"Atta babe." Dick says as you reach for the knob. You smile emptily at him. Tall, sturdy, with broad shoulders and a dangerously charming smile, Dick used to be a total asshole looking just to fuck around and disregard feelings (he left you with quite a lot of work to do as Sylph of Heart) but after he ascended as your Time player, he stopped being so reckless and started getting his act together.   
  
"Let's do this." Noah, ever dedicated in his support for you, puts a hand on your shoulder. He feels you trembling, and squeezes you reassuredly. You take a deep breath. You're here now.    
  
You look around at your friends. Sera smiles at you.  How her blonde hair stayed in that bun, you will never know.    
  
"Don't keep us waiting, come on," she laughs.   
  
Skye nods at you. "New world waiting." Your ecto-brother looks weary and exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. The two of you had been run ragged during the battle. You wonder if your exhaustion reflects onto his face, too.   
  
"Are you ready?" Beth asks, her brow furrowing as her eyes met yours. She senses your hesitation.   
  
"Yeah, just, give me a minute." You mumble, lowering your eyes back to the knob. "I just need a minute."   
  
You close your eyes. The Black King. The monsters. The Quest. Hestia. Your brother's death. Dave. Dick.   
  
You think of your old friends. You think of Rian, how he should have been the one playing. You miss them.   
  
You think of your family. You think of all that you and your friends sacrificed for this fucking game.    
  
You think of Dave, and his final promise to you.  You think of the future you all could have had.  College, careers. The dreams that were crushed. What could happen if you all went back.   
  
Tears rolling down your cheeks, and your shoulders set, you grab the knob and wrench the door open.   
  
...   
  
You breathe deeply, and find yourself in.. a familiar room....   
  


There's a weird feeling of otherness that makes you... unsettled.   
  
You've been having these weird dreams lately and you're not sure how to describe them. It feels like you've been sleeping for years. The ticking of the wall clock makes your skin crawl for reasons you can't explain.   
  
Your name is Dave Strider and you also beat The Game, but you don't know this yet.


	6. hard reset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> do you ever feel out of place--like something is ever so slightly off? you wonder, briefly, what these dreams mean. but they're just dreams, after all, right?

You don't even know there was a game to be played.   
  
Your neighbor and ex-boyfriend, RIAN LOPEZ has been gushing to you about a cool new game he ordered, and you're thinking you might play it, but you don't know yet. With college starting in the next couple months, you've been really busy!   
  
Something feels missing though... something...   
  
There's a pang in your chest for a moment, but it goes away. You fall asleep. You sleep soundly, but your dreams make you wake with a start--

You wake up in your childhood home.  You don't know why this is a significant statement.     
  
You glance around you. There's a GUITAR leaning against a KEYBOARD PIANO. The lamp is on. Your coats are tossed haphazardly about your chair, your desk is an absolute horror, your blankets are strewn about messily in a soft nest of excess fabric. You run a hand through your hair. It's short and cropped, not the unruly bob you'd gotten used to.    
  
"What the fuck." You whisper.    
  
You look at OSWALD, intact, laying by your head. The rabbit is smiling his ever-present smile, his black ears floppy as per usual.     
  
"Hey buddy." You mumble, hugging the plush. You look at your PHONE. You can't believe it's sitting there. You pick it up and unlock it, sweeping through your apps.   
  
Pesterchum isn't here.   
  
You're not sure why you thought it would be, or why that name popped into your mind. You're feeling very off.   
  
You check the date. It's 2016. The year it should be.   
  
There's a wail of a child ( _ your lil bro? But that can’t be because he---you shake yourself again _ \--) and the drone of the television. It's still evening.   
  
You look back at your phone and scroll through your pictures; things you remember, but feel like you shouldn't. You had the weirdest dream...   
  
Your phone is buzzing with notifications. Inanities.   
  
You shut it off and bury yourself back in the blankets.    
  
You'd had the weirdest dream...   
  
...   
  
__ Lava, gears, red irises, black shades, blond hair, smirking lips--   
  
running out of time- numbness-   
  
hope, rage, time, heart, space, blood--    
  
the black king.   
  
The prize.   
  
...   
  
In the morning you try to compose a message but you lay there, tears in your eyes, frightened.   
  
You'd typed in Dave.    
  
There's no one in your database named Dave.   
  
You just had a weird dream, that's all, you rationalize.  You're too old for shit like this.   


* * *

  
Your name is Dave Strider and your partner isn't responding to your messages.    
  
Your name is Dave Strider and you don't _have_ a partner.   
  
You keep catching yourself having these weird, surreal feelings. You're pretty sure it's dissociation. Your brother isn't so sure.   
  
"Maybe in a past life." He said cryptically. His eyes sparkled like he knew something you didn't.   
  
You continue trying to figure it out. But after you text John about your normal inanities, you go to bed.   
  
...    
  
__ magenta and mint on brown skin, wandering hands, wandering lips   
  
a steady pulse beneath the ground under your feet   
  
Grass, real grass!   
  
white hair, a bassline   
  
cold metal, meteor, grey skin, a tv screen, you text while a movie plays   
  
green skin, skull face, fear, death   
  
Death all around you, you die, you die, and die, in the stupidest of ways endless loops of dying and dying but that's all worth it because if you can see --

_   
_   
Your name is Dave Strider and you remember. __   
  


* * *

  
  
But you, you can't remember.   
  
You try, you try so hard. You keep having these dreams and for fuck's sake you know that you can't just forget them.   
  
You draw a boy's face in your sketchbook.    
  
You paint him.   
  
He's tanned, he's slim but his arms are strong, he's got freckles, his hair is so blond it's white, his cheekbones, his jaw.   
  
Your fingers tingle and your heart aches, as if you can remember what it's like to trace the line of his cheekbones with your fingers and not a pencil.   
  
You can't remember why he's significant.   
  
You've been having these weird dreams but none of them make sense; all you can remember is the way he makes you feel.   
  
You can't remember his name.   
  
Your housemates knock on your door. You leave your painting to dry.   
  


* * *

  
Rose shuts her book once while you're both sitting in the living room. It's 3 am and by no means should either of you be awake.  But you are so oh well.   
  
"Dave," she begins, then is silent for a time as if figuring out how to phrase her next question.   
  
"Do you remember SBURB?"   


* * *

  
You've been neglecting yourself again.    
  
You look like death has visited you; your eyes have telling darkness gathered like a void beneath, you're growing pale again, and you sleep all day and half of the night.   
  
You want to keep dreaming.   
  
You want to figure out why this boy--   
  
Your artwork of him has gained you some notoriety on the internet.  It's empty though. Your heart is still aching and you still feel cold.  You still cry at night and you lay awake and wonder why.   
  
You're terribly lonely.   


* * *

You're terribly lonely.

  
You know you shouldn't be sleeping alone. You miss the curves of that body and you wake in cold sweats but that person isn't there with that coy smile.   
  
You miss it all terribly.   


* * *

  
You miss him terribly.   
  
You don't even know his name but you remember the feeling of his muscles, sturdy and strong, the freckles on his shoulders, the flush of his chest, and the way he always gravitated to your warmth.   
  
There's an ache in your chest and you need him. You wonder how pathetic it is to pine after someone you saw in a dream, but, you do anyway. 

* * *

  
"David," Rose begins as delicately as she can, "Kanaya just found this circulating on Tumblr."   
  
She turns the screen your way and your breath catches in your throat.    
  
"That's me." You say dumbly.   
  
"I am aware, Dave." Your sister replies. "Shall I ask her to speak to the artist?"    
  
"No!" You exclaim quickly. "No," you try again more calmly. "I wanna do it." You swallow hard. Your palms are sweaty and your eyes prickle behind your shades. "I remember... always loved drawing..." You bite the inside of your cheek, not even daring to hope. "It could--"   
  
"Dave." Rose cuts in. "Please, don't get your hopes up. The chances are--"   
  
"I know, damn it." You snap back. "Let me have this, just this once." She purses her lips and nods. You take note of the handle of the artist and quickly abscond upstairs where you won't be disturbed.   
  


* * *

  
You have a message.   
  
Suddenly you feel like you can breathe again.   
  
turntechgodhead: hey   
turntechgodhead: im dave   
turntechgodhead: your art is rly good   
turntechgodhead: i dont mean to scare you but it kinda creeps me out   
turntechgodhead: did u use a model or   
turntechgodhead: because like   
turntechgodhead: if you did dudes my fuckin twin or something   
turntechgodhead: i mean i already have a twin but like   
turntechgodhead: she doesnt even look that much like me compared to your dude   
breezyartii2an: I didn't use a model actually. A LOT of people ask me that but I really did just kinda draw it from my head.   
turntechgodhead: really   
breezyartii2an: Yeah, really. Sorry if the drawings make you uncomfortable.   
breezyartii2an: They make me uncomfortable too. It's like I can't escape him.   
turntechgodhead: escape who   
breezyartii2an: I don't know his name. But I keep drawing him and apparently he looks like you.    
turntechgodhead: his name is dave   
breezyartii2an: Dave?   
  
Your breath hitches. Something clicks.   
  
breezyartii2an: Hi, Dave.   
breezyartii2an: I missed you.   
turntechgodhead: are you really   
turntechgodhead: oh my god    
breezyartii2an: Dave...  
turntechgodhead: fuck i can't believe  
breezyartii2an: I can't believe I forgot you.   
turntechgodhead: its okay baby   
turntechgodhead: holy shit   
turntechgodhead: i cant believe it   
turntechgodhead: three years and you turn up on tumblr of all places   
turntechgodhead: finding you is like looking for hay in the needle stack   
turntechgodhead: it fucking hurts and is near impossible   
  
You laugh wetly. What a Dave thing to say.

You can breathe again.    
  
You missed him so much.    
  
You bite your lip and try to muffle your sobbing.   
  



	7. happy ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in the movies, the happy endings are usually beautiful beginnings to something great. you can only hope the same is true for you and Dave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut warning. I couldn't resist. ^u^;;

Dave, you discover, has been all over the country. The Stri-londe family has been all over due to half the members' work. Roxy is a scientist and apparently also an excellent hacker; Hal, who apparently used to be a pair of really cool sunglasses, works in military intelligence. Currently they live in California; conveniently, you are also in California.   
  
You've cursed the game with everything you have.    
  
You've never been so thankful for the serendipitous perfection it brings.   
  


* * *

  
Luckily currently Roxy is doing computer science and making excellent strides in Silicon Valley, near where you are getting a degree in art. Dave's brother Dirk goes to school near you evidently as well, for engineering and robotics, and Dave himself is starting out for Film Studies at a JC nearby.   
  
So that glorious serendipity is what makes it possible for Dave to be sitting across from you a week later at a little cafe in downtown San Jose.   
  
The first thing you do is grab his hands. They're rough, but not as calloused as you remember.    
  
"We do stick fighting." Dave explains. "Me and Dirk. Keeps us sharp." He sucks in a breath, looks down. "It's not a sword but it'll do." You kiss his palm.   
  
"Your hands are so soft." He mumbles, squeezing your hands comfortingly.   
  
"Not really," you laugh, "I'm a mess and I have to scrub the crap out of my hands to get rid of charcoal and paint." He looks down at your hands. Your fingertips are still stained a little from figure drawing last week.    
  
"Heh. Shows you work hard." He says, brushing the pad of his thumb over the callous where your pencil rests against your middle finger. You just blush silently. "That's more than what a lotta people have. They're like, damn, I worked so hard today, but they got nothing to show for it."   
  
"Thanks." You murmur, smiling sweetly at him.    
  
"I never thought we'd have this." You both say at the same time. There's a pregnant pause as you both look at each other, silently waiting for the other to continue.   
  
"I mean," Dave begins, "I thought I was toast. Like. More toast than a piece of bread at the end of a Texan day. More toast than people celebrating at a wedding. Hella fucking toast, doll. Our game was fucked up from the start, but you guys had a chance to win. I never thought I'd see you again, let alone--how'd we get to be in the same universe? Like, fuck, that's like Santa and God themselves saw us and were like, shit, these kids are fucked up. Maybe we should let one thing go right for them for once." He swallows. "You've been right under my nose for almost a year. I thought by the time I'd found you, you'd've been across the country."   
  
"I could say the same thing." You reply, smiling fondly. "I'm so glad you're here, Dave. I prayed so much that we'd be together again, I've missed you so damn much." You sigh. "I thought I was going crazy, y'know. I kept having dreams that I couldn't help but feel were real. I never thought we'd have a normal coffee date like this, like two normal kids. Dave, I'm wearing makeup right now. This is serious shit." You say gravely, and Dave laughs. He swipes a thumb over your lips. He whistles.   
  
"You busted out the kiss proof shit."   
  
"Only the best for you, baby." You grin, batting your eyelashes coquettishly.    
  
He laughs. "Oh, you foxy temptress, I am so allured by your charms."   
  
"You better be!" You snicker, releasing one of his hands to sip your iced boba drink. "It's not just anybody I'd drop everything to go on a date with."   
  
"It's not just anybody I'd skip classes and take three buses to go see." Dave shoots back. He lowers his shades to wink at you.  You laugh.   
  
All is well.   
  


* * *

  
  
When you two are finally back at your place, you write a short note on the whiteboard--"SORRY FOR THE NOISE!!! I HAVEN'T SEEN MY BF IN YEARS XOXO" and shoot a text to your housemates to either put on some music to drown you two out, or get the hell out of the dorm. You drag Dave to your room, and as soon as the door locks you two fall together like magnets. He kisses you hungrily and you kiss him like you would die if you did any different.   
  
You both kissed like two lovers back from war, back from the end of the world.   
  
There's no words need speaking, no hesitancy, only the urgency to be whole with one another. You're tugging each other's clothes off, Dave's coat falling to the floor, your dress unzipped, his lips kissing every inch of exposed skin he can reach.   
  
Your back hits the bed and you pull him on top of you. He shrieks as he falls, tripping over his pants. You laugh together, and you kiss the freckles on his nose and he blows a raspberry into your neck.  You're not alone anymore, and you feel so whole. You pull him closer, so happy.    
  
He teases you, hands all over. You grind against him. He groans, a promise.   
  
He slides a condom on easily and slips into you smoothly. You moan, and he buries his face into your neck.  Your lovemaking is quick, frenzied, and empassioned--as if when you separate, this will all have been a desperate dream. There is time to take things slow later--now, you two must come to grips that you are actually there, together.   
  
You love him so dearly.   
  
You're glad you have this chance to touch and feel the man you love.    
  
He thrusts into you so powerfully, moaning sweet nothings shamelessly into your ear. You whimper, rolling your hips into his. You climax, crying out, and he becomes erratic as he reaches his own finish. He slumps and rests on top of you, and you sweetly pet his hair, whispering praises to him as he pants.   
  
"I love you." You whisper. He kisses you.   
  
"Good, because I'm not finished makin love to you, darlin." His native Texan drawl slips out as he says this. You smirk at him and kiss his nose.    
  
"I didn't expect any less from you, Strider."

..

  
You push Dave's head back onto the pillow and scoot back down. He wipes his mouth, pouting a little that you pushed him away.   
  
"No more," you mumble sleepily, cuddling into his chest, "Too much, 'm sore and tired."   
  
"S'good." He replies, rubbing his jaw. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your head. "Love the way you sound. S'like music. S'like you're singing an opera and I'm the conductor. Only..sexier."   
  
"No metaphoric shit, shh, lemme bask in my afterglow." You grumble, gently patting his mouth. He laughs and catches your hand.    
  
"Yeah, okay, Your Highness."   
  
Your heart is aching with how much you love him.    
  
"Your bed is too small for two people.." Dave mumbles, shifting his legs a little. He's a little too lanky for it, you think, his feet almost hit the board. That's too bad. He stretches under you. "S'really comfy though. Like layin on a cloud."    
  
"It's still too big for just me though." You lift your head and kiss his reddened lips. "I missed you every night and I didn't even know what was missing.

He smiles at you again and your dreams, for once, are gentle.

* * *

 


	8. unrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you look at someone and get a sense of what could be, what might be, and what might have happened in a different life. imagine feeling that, all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more gratutious smut :y plus echoes hinting towards an offshoot series i might put up

_There are infinite worlds, infinite possibilities, and yet you find yourself here._

  
You're laying on the floor and he is on the bed, both of your bodies are bare. You stare blankly at the ceiling light and the Light symbol sprawling out decoratively on the fixture. He sits facing the window. You lay on the carpet considering your sin as your skin crawls with vulnerability.  
  
It's like Adam and Eve, you think distantly. You're only doing this because you're one of the last human beings alive.  
  
Later he's in your arms and you're petting his head.  
  
"You're one of the best people I've ever met." He whispers in the darkness. "You can meet a douche like me and not like me at first and then give me a chance anyway."  
  
"I wanted to know you." You reply. "I'm glad I did. I think you're pretty great."  
  
"You deserve everything." He pulls you into a hug.  
  
"I'd give you everything." You mumble back.  
  
You bask in this, the feeling of two wounded people huddling together, two people who love each other without being in love with each other.  
He asks you about Dave, and your heart aches.  
  
...  
Infinite worlds, infinite possibilities, and yet you don't want to find yourself anywhere but here.  
  
With Dave's head warm on your chest, you can't help but wonder if love has made you complacent. You'd ask, but your partner is asleep. That and you yourself are starting to drift off.  
  
Oh, he's waking up. He stirs against you.   
  
Dave's hand presses against your cheek. He groans. You turn your head and kiss it.  
  
"Good morning." You murmur.  
  
"What's up, sunshine," he says back to you, pushing back your hair. You take his hand and tangle your fingers with his.  
  
"Just thinking about this dream I had," you say, "and how I wouldn't want to be in any universe but this one."  
  
He smirks sleepily at you. "Don't get too sappy on me babe, I'll bring you breakfast in bed."  
  
"Oh will you now?" You laugh.  
  
"Fuck yeah I will.  I will get my ass up early as shit to make all these damn pancakes, just you wait.”  His eyes shine a little with excitement, and you briefly wonder if he’ll make good on this promise only to realize that yes, yes, this is Dave fucking Strider and he will make all those damn pancakes, ironically or not.  

You laugh a little to yourself fondly, but as Dave mumbles himself back to sleep over ironic tangents, you can’t help but… wonder about the dream you had… something was different, not quite the same, as your other dreams and memories related to The Game.  You put it off.  Sleep, you decide, following Dave's example, is a first and only.

* * *

  
It's occurring to you now, taking into account your limited powers, that your dreams may also be making you see into alternate realities. Soul travelling. You ask Dirk about it one day.  
  
"Infinite universes." He answers. "There's a multitude where you were never born. Where Dave never met you. Where both of you died. Where you married and had little rugrats. Infinite possibilities." He takes a drag of his cigarette. "I see them too. It's hard not to."  
  
"When I sleep at night, sometimes, I dream of someone else. Sometimes I dream about a time where Dave is dead." You confide, bunching your hands in your shirt. "It unsettles me."  
  
"Just remember when you wake up that this you is the one that counts." Dirk says. You nod even though your heart is still not settled. You reach for Dirk's cigarette; he gives it to you and you take a long drag.  
  
"You don't smoke." Dirk chuckles.  
  
"I did in some timeline out there."  
  
"Fair enough."

The silence stretches between you. Just you and Dirk, passing a single cigarette back and forth. When you reach the butt, Dirk stubs it out against the pavement.  
  
"How do you do it?" You ask, finally.  
  
Dirk is silent for a time, fiddling with a ring on his finger. It's one of those rings that spin, and you find yourself wondering where you can get one of those. "Find a totem. Hold onto now." He says simply.  
  
You tug at one of your earrings and frown.

* * *

  
When you look at Dick those infinite possibilities echo, and you want to hide your heart from the world, to bury it away where no one will find it.

He passes you in the hall as he goes to the bathroom and you towards Noah's room, and when he brushes, you startle.

You're overtaken by a sensory memory.  
  
_Dick rams into you from behind fiercely, roughly, his fingers pawing into your skin and you bite your pillow, squeezing the edge of the mattress. You stare sightlessly into the dark as he bites hard onto your neck._ _  
_ _  
_ _But just as the pleasure gives way to pain and you're beginning to have doubts, just as you know it could either go really good or really horrible, he freezes and pulls out from you as quickly as he'd entered._ _  
_ _  
_ _"I can't." His broken whisper shatters the dark world between you._ _  
_ _  
_ _you hunch against the mattress, your pants bunched around your thighs._ _  
_ _  
_ _"I get it." You say back._ _  
_ _  
_ _He steps back and stands there and you touch his shoulder, hold him, and suddenly he's crumpled to the floor and you don't know what to do._ _  
_ _  
_ _He's there and you're burning with guilt._ _  
_ _  
_ _"I'm sorry." You whisper back._ _  
_ _  
_ _"I'm a bad person aren't I?" He croaks, and your heart breaks at the expression the dim blue electronic light illuminates to you. You'd never seen a man so broken, a man with everything to lose._ _  
_ _  
_ _You'd never felt so empty to know you've done this before, silent resignation coloring your thoughts before you even speak. You have ruined lives and you know it._ _  
_ _  
_ _The weight of all of your selves' mistakes weighs on your soul._ __  
  
You know you won't be sleeping tonight.  
  
...  
  
You gasp and sit up in bed. Dave reaches for you and pulls you to him and you ragdoll against him.  
  
"What's wrong?" He asks.  
  
"Alternate timeline dream." You mumble, and breathe in his scent.  
  
Find a totem. Hold onto now.  
...  
  
You're often with Dave's hand tight in yours like an anchor; knowing how easily you could get swept away by and lost by those impactful memories from your other selves. You don't know exactly what things were like but you get feelings, snippets. Little glimpses of what had been, in different lives. Sometimes he meets your calculating eyes like he knows exactly what is on your mind.   
  
It makes you sick.  
  
Knowing how easily he could sway you in another time. 

 _"I can't,"_ his voice echoes in your head like a gunshot.  
  
You smile weakly, even as you both stare at each other like something is off. You wonder if he remembers; he had time powers, of course he'd know the offshoots. But that was then, and this is now.   
  
You tug your earring again. Find a totem, hold onto now.  
  
You look at Dave and your heart hurts; you'd cross dimensions for him so why do you have to deal with this burden? 

Ignorance, as they say, would be bliss.

* * *

Infinite universes, infinite possibilities; of course, you and Dave would end up in one that challenges your resolve when your entire relationship had been based on the challenge of distance, not between countries or time zones, but alternate parallel universes. It weighs on you heavily. You don't speak a word of it to Dave, not sure that you're able to.  
  
  
Dave is gone; the Strider-Lalonde clan had disappeared for a vacation much like your friends and family and you, thus, are alone for the brief, insignificant holiday.  
  
You are nervous every time you get close to your game-mates; your problem with timelines gives you hot flashes and bouts of nausea and without Dave it's hard to anchor yourself properly. When they worry and ask after you, you can't even explain but give feeble excuses of illness because you can't even explain your memories, for fear that yours of the game won't coincide with your friends'. You breathe deeply, tug your earring, repeat Dirk's advice.

* * *

You're hanging out with Karkat when he begins to notice the tangled bonds of Blood marked between you all; he comments offhand one day about missed opportunities when you annoy him too much, and you glare at him until he is cowed. He doesn't say a word, but gives you a grave nod. You sigh in relief.   
  
You feel guilty, though.  In the moment, Karkat's eyes seem to glimmer red instead of brown.  But he, bless him, airily changes the subject to the shitty rom-com airing on TV. Even now, he has your back. Between him and Noah and your two brothers at home, you have never felt quite so looked out for in a platonic sense. Still, it doesn't feel right to talk to them all about the Game anymore, not when you're all finally free of it.

No, there's only one person you can ask.


	9. totem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dirk voices his advice, once more.

You're at the Strider apartment early one morning; you'd stayed the weekend and Dave still slept like the dead. He'd just finished a tough intepretive film project that you helped him through.  You never want to see a dead bird again, after that fiasco.  But most importantly, Dave was finally asleep, so now, you can pursue your mission.

You're in the kitchen, sitting at their table, shaking, a mug of cocoa in front of you. Your sweater sags off one shoulder and you fiddle with the overlong sleeves.   
  
Dirk enters right on cue.   
  
"Help me," you say, and he doesn't so much flinch at your voice in the predawn darkness.   
  
He sits across from you. His orange eyes reflect in the lights of the street. Piercing.   
  
"Find a totem, hold onto now, you said. I'm having trouble." You continue, turning the mug in your hands. The marshmallows are melting, but you can hardly bring yourself to lift the cup.   
  
"Well," Dirk sighs, and leans closer to you, "are you unhappy with Mr. Strider?"   
  
"No," You reply, frowning at the notion, "But, because of these, these memories... my heart is still torn."    
  
"You're a heart player. We were made to have big hearts." Dirk looked distantly out the window. You quirk a small smile, remembering the blue and green glint of the bracelet and the spinning ring he wore. Said ring he was spinning now.    
  
"Aren't you..." you gesture with your hands. "In a relationship.. with Jane and Jake?"    
  
Dirk's head whips to you steadfast. "How did you know about that."   
  
You raise your eyebrow. "How did you know about me and Dick?"    
  
Dirk inclines his head and chuckles. "Yeah, you got me there. You're right. How could I say that when I know the answer."    
  
Even now, focused on each other, the timelines and common soul and heartlines pulse around you, and you both see each other for the people that this universe has made you. In other universes, Dirk is gay, homophobic, trans, ace, black, albino, latino, white, tall, short, fat, deathly skinny. In others, you are male, nonbinary, asian, black, dead, alive. So many alternatives, so much of a headache without each other to focus on.  For now, you try to focus on the instance of Dirk Strider before you; with his big nose and sun-browned skin, his freckles, and his dyed-white hair.  His piercings glint in the dim light from the street.  You’re sure yours do the same.     
  
You reach for his hand. "You and Dave have been an awesome anchor to keep me here, in the now."   
  
Dirk squeezes your hand. He doesn't make an expression, but he nods his agreement. "Two Heart players and a time player. Between the three of us someone has to know what universe is right."    
  
"Not right, necessarily," you murmur, "but the right now." You smile.    
  
"Find a totem. Hold onto now." You both recite. Dirk taps his shades. You tug your earring.    
  
"Thank you, Dirk." You say. He just nods. The two of you sit in silence once more, and your heart swells with hope for Dirk and his pair of partners, even as he also seems nervous. You wonder what he sees in the heartlines. You focus on the beating of your own heart for a second.

As the sun begins to rise, you return to bed with Dave.

Infinite timelines, infinite possibilities, and yet, this is the universe where you belong. You pull Dave closer. Forget the other stuff. This is what is important. 


	10. deaths.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more vignettes of alternate timelines

⇒ SYLPH: Reset, rewind.

This iteration of you has found the happy ending that you have been craving. Sure, you are certain to have a long way to go to recover from the effects your Game memories have, but you have Dave and Dirk to keep you steady. 

This you will be fine.

However, that's not to say this story, this universe is finished just yet.

Regardless. It's time to move on to a different timeline.

* * *

 

⇒ LOAD NEW FILE

Overwrite previous save?

> NO

Create new file?

> YES

.

.

.

SAVE FILE 02 created.

Loading. .. ...

 

* * *

 

⇒ BE DAVE STRIDER.

 

You are Dave Strider, and you, after Karkat belligerently cornered you in a feelings jam, have realized that underneath all the layers of fronting and irony, you are VERY WORRIED.  You are in your claimed room on the meteor and, even though you can't and don't spend every minute talking to your TRANSUNIVERSAL LOVER, you recognize the need to talk right now.

 

It’s been a long time since you’d spoken last.  Weeks?  Months?   TIME passes differently on the meteor, surrounded by the Horrorterrors and their dreambubbles--it gives you a headache sometimes, one not related to your photosensitivity.  The way it starts and stops and rewinds and crosses alternate timelines and universes slicks over you like oil and you’re the poor bird stuck in the spill.  

 

There you are, getting all TANGENTIAL and shit again.  God, you need to stop that.  But whatever.  The task at hand.

 

You boot up Pesterchum again.

 

BREEZYARTISAN’s name is in gray again.  Even so, you deign to send a message.

 

TG: joel

TG: where are you babe

 

This becomes a ritual.  Every time you wake up and every time you fall asleep, you make sure to send your lover a message.  Karkat catches onto this fast, and, though his brow furrows, he doesn’t try to stop you.  He makes a weird clicking noise in the back of his throat when you voice your worry in a roundabout way, filled with metaphor and maybe even a bit of rap, a noise that is filled with… pity, perhaps?  But he scratches his claws against your scalp in just the right way that makes your eyes finally close for sleep.

 

You dream and you don’t find Joel, or any iteration of her; female, male, or otherwise.  The time you encountered a male Joel was a mindfuck, by the way, and it was awesome for reasons your naughty bisexual self will not mention.  Because fuck your Freudian slips, you are a guy who knows when TMI is TMI.

 

Joel would have laughed at that.

 

You keep messaging, hoping for a reply.

 

TG: hey

TG: are you there

TG: come on i really need to talk to you

TG: just let me know youre out there at least

TG: what youre up to

TG: babe

 

Some of your messages are uncomfortably vulnerable and honest.  Some are even downright rude.

 

TG: seriously what the fuck is your deal

TG: this is really shitty of you

TG: dont just fucking ignore me im a fucking person

TG: i thought u hated that shit dont be a hypocrite

 

All of them are sent with increasing desperation.  You send apologies, you send bargaining, pleading.  You keep trying and trying, but against everything, you begin to lose hope.  Not Joel, you think. 

 

One day he gets a ping.

 

BA: Hello?

TG: joel

TG: finally

TG: i was fuckin worried

 

There’s a weight in your chest and you feel like you want to throw up but you don’t know why.  And then the other shoe drops.

 

BA: no

TG: then who the fuck are you

TG: where is joel

TG: why do you have her phone

BA: jesus i don’t even know who you are so… could you chill the fuck out?

BA: i’m her friend noah

TG: okay noah 

TG: kindly answer my question

TG: because I am this close to flying off the handle man

TG: andale andale

TG: i have waited weeks im not going to be deterred by slow typing

BA: wow you’re chatty. shut up real quick and i’ll tell you what happened.

BA: But long story short, she’s dead.

TG: what

BA: She’s dead.

BA: She told me to tell you before it happened

BA: I was there

TG: was it just or heroic

BA: Heroic

BA: Naturally

TG: god DAMN it

TG: why is she dead what happened

TG: what the fuck happened why didn’t anyone tell me until now

TG: is this some kind of joke

TG: you guys have a time player don’t you

TG: she’s a sylph for fuck’s sake

BA: Im sorry okay!

BA: I just didnt know what to say

BA: I know how much you meant to her and shit

BA: I love her too, shes my best friend. I tried to save her, with a Breath of life, skye tried to save her, dick tried so fucking hard to save her, we tried everything

BA: corpse kiss, quest bed, life powers, time powers, 

BA: Nothing worked. Our hope player even prayed. Our light player said its got to do with her deal with her denizen

TG: what the fuck happened

BA: well

BA: she

BA: saved my life

BA: and I want my best friend back and you want your lover back and i’m so fucking sorry but her death is all my fault 

BA: you have every right to hate me fuck i hate myself

BA: sorry I thought I could do this i wanted to do this cuz you have a right to know but I just can’t right now, I gotta go

\-- BA [breezyArtii2an] ceased pestering TG [turntechGodhead]! --

 

You don’t remember what happened after that. You just remember coming to and seeing a pile of dead Daves around you.  Rose, Kanaya, Terezi, and Karkat came running; Rose supposes you, in a blind fury, tried time traveling back to save her but because it wasn’t part of your timeline, because it’s not a loop part of the Alpha timeline, you failed every time.

 

You don’t think about the implications.

 

Karkat pulls you into another room while Rose and the others clean up your mess.  He tries to talk to you, but you just.

 

You shut down.  You sleep.

 

…

 

The next time you see her in the dream bubbles, he is neither pleased nor surprised.  Her white eyes are shockingly so and you want nothing more than to see her dark pupils.  She sees you, walks toward you, and your eyes water behind your shades at the bitterness of her smile.

 

“What’s the use of being a sylph if you can’t heal yourself, oh mighty healer?” you quip.

 

She laughs, a hollow, broken sound.

 

“Why waste time on that, when I can heal my friends?  I’m the least important in the equation.”

 

You step in close to her. You take her hand and place it on your chest. 

 

“You’re not to me.” You say seriously.

 

She looks up at you, and even though her eyes are blank you catch such an extreme sadness in them. You inhale deeply, swallows hard, and places your shades on top of your head.  You stare into each other’s eyes, until you close yours and rest your forehead on hers. You place a hand on her cheek, bite your lip—your face is wet you don’t know why.

 

“Heal my heart.” You murmur.  Her breath catches.  She cups your face in her hands.  And then, she begins to weep. 

“I’m sorry, Dave, I’m sorry—“

 

“Why did you do it?” you ask. “Why did you have to be a hero?”

 

“Why did you?” she asks in return, a hand on your chest. “You know that neither of us are strangers to heroic suicide.”

 

“Because if it wasn’t me, who else would it be?” you ask. She nods.

 

“I’m sorry.” She says again. “I really am. I didn’t want to leave you.”

 

You peer at her.  “Have you really left?” you ask, gesturing at the bubble around you.  She laughs.

 

“I guess not.” She hugs you tight. “I’m glad I at least get to say goodbye.”

 

GAME OVER

TRY AGAIN?

> YES

* * *

 

 

In the ever-present infinitesimal possibilities of the multi-verse, of course one iteration has their roles reversed.  It’s a doomed timeline, but a Doomed Dave is still a real Dave. 

 

This is the timeline where Dave died at the hands of Bec Noir and PM.  Or so, that’s what he assumes.  The last thing he remembers is dueling at Jade’s questbed, struggling to keep up with the swordsmanship, knowing he could just reach out and start a time loop, but stubbornly refusing to touch those powers, he’s tired, he’s so tired--

His chest hurts. It does that every time he thinks about Jade and dying. 

...

He wanders the dream bubbles, wondering what’s left for him in the void. 

He sees LOFAF, the silhouette of the volcano in the distance, he sees LOHAC, the Beat Mesa Rose had John activate.  And when he jumps off the gear for the next, he sees something unprecedented.

A quest bed, with the sigil of heart engraved upon it.  A plush pile of pink fabric, mint shoes kicked off to the edge of the bed.  A person somewhere in that pink pile of robes.  You.

He thinks back to memories, so many memories—days spent sleeping, trying to find you, sitting together, laughing and exploring, telling stories of the lands, testing the limits of their powers, making love on your quest bed, in the fields of your land, in the snow of LOFAF--

You hear him land, and hurriedly sit up. 

“Dave!” you cry happily. “Dave, oh my God, I haven’t seen you in so long. I was so worried about you! The last message I got was the one you sent about your bro messaging you and Jade going evil and stuff.” You pat the bed.  He obediently sits down, and you settle on his lap as usual.

“I missed you,” You murmur into his neck, and he holds you tight. He tilts your chin up to look at him. He looks into your eyes, searchingly. Even for you, his expression is unreadable.  You shift uncomfortably.

“Hey, say something. Where’ve you been, jerk? You can’t just leave me hanging.” You mumble at him, coloring under that gaze, so annoyingly hidden by his shades.

 

“I know.” He replies, but makes no effort to answer your questions.  He kisses you instead.

“Dave—mm…” you relax in his arms, melt in his kiss.  Nothing else matters—just that your lover is back in your arms, even if only for this kiss.  Your lips eagerly knead together, his hands on your hips, and yours in his hair—as if you are trying to melt into one another.

You slide his shades to the top of his head. He ducks his head, his eyes closed. You kiss his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, down his neck.  He starts to lay you down onto the quest bed and then, hesitates.

He sits up and turns away, putting his shades back on.

“I can’t fucking do this.”

“Do what?” You ask, reaching for him.  He turns his back to you. There’s a lump in your throat and you steel yourself for the worst but despite that, your heart is thumping wildly in your chest and all you can feel is immense fear.

“I can’t—Joel… I love you, but…” For once he is tongue-tied.  No metaphors are at his command, no words can soften the blow of this statement.  There is nothing he can say but the truth--and while you know you need to hear it, you know it needs to be said, you can’t help but want to run away.

“But what?  Dave.  Please talk to me.  I can’t read your mind.  What happened?” You ask desperately, because even though you can’t read his mind, you can feel the heavy weight and guilt rolling off his soul in waves.  You’re worried, and you’re certain it’s clear on your face, you’re worried, worried that he’s hurt, worried that he needs help and isn’t getting it, worried about everything and anything if it is even the slightest bit possible. And as your mind comes to the most likely conclusion your mind suddenly goes blank, empties.  He turns around.

 

He whips his shades off and you gasp

 

“I’m fucking dead.  I can’t—I can’t be with you, it’s wrong, it’s sick, I’m dead, and you’re alive.  I love you but we can’t be together anymore.”

 

You behold him in silence.  He blurs around the edges and you sway a little.  It isn’t until the droplets soak your chest that you realized that your eyes are filled with tears.

 

“What happened?” You whisper

.

“Jack Noir.” He spits back. “Fucking dick. I’m dead. Heroic as fuck. The clock has struck twelve and it’s time for this Cinderella to get his ass back to the trash where he belongs.”

 

Hesitantly, you inch closer, giving him time to pull away if he needs to.

 

“You were supposed to live, idiot.  You were supposed to win your game and make a new universe and be happy.”  You sniff. “I’m the one that’s supposed to die.  We both saw it, in your timelines.  You were supposed to be  _ happy _ .” You rub your eyes and laugh bitterly. “You big goddamn hero.”

 

“Sorry to ruin your master plan, babe.  Looks like you’re going to need to go back to the drawing board.”

 

“Yeah.”  You sit in silence for a time, both not knowing what to say.

 

“I love you,” you offer after a little while, “And I don’t care that you’re dead.”

 

He glances at you.  “I can’t even begin to tell you how wrong that is, in a way that is not sick, or nasty, or any combination of those.”

 

“No, I mean.  This game goes so far as to include a physical form for the dead.  Allows them to interact this way, where the waking world can meet the dreaming dead.  What’s the point except to allow people to stay together, to allow bonds and friendships to stay strong even through the threshold of death?” You point out, holding onto his hand like it’s the last time you can.  It probably is, you reflect darkly.

 

You’re desperate to hold onto him and he knows this.

 

“Babe, no.” He sighs. “You gotta stay alive for me.” 

 

You nod sadly.  

 

…

  
When you wake up, your pillow is soaked in tears.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW ENDING UNLOCKED: Dead Dave/Game Over Timeline
> 
> anyway i love alternate timelines! as you may have noticed, i tried to keep ambiguous gender & pronouns for the most part for the previous chapters. in this particular universe, the sylph is a girl named joel. but you can keep your headcanons for any other iteration. c:


	11. retcon in the mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CONTINUE FILE?  
> > YES 
> 
> SAVE 02 loading...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a continuation--or perhaps, a new iteration--of the GAME OVER timeline
> 
> quick note on the players in sylph's timeline  
> \- joie/joel, the only two names i'll ever refer the sylph as if i ever do: sylph of heart  
> \- skye: the sylph's ecto-twin. bard of doom.  
> \- beth: the rogue of space. hella fuckin gay.  
> \- dick: beth's ecto-brother. the prince of time.  
> \- noah: the sylph's best friend. knight of breath.  
> \- emmy: noah's ecto-sister. witch of hope.  
> \- sera: skye's best friend. mage of light.  
> \- alex: noah's boyfriend. page of mind.

When he kisses you, you feel empty. He's not Dave. He doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you all that much, you think. You're just a placeholder, a way for him to get his rocks off, a warm body for his bed.

You hate him and the way he makes your body run so hot. You hate the way he makes your heart feel so cold. You hate that you still care about him.  And you hate, most of all, that you can't say no to him, because as much as you detest what you two are doing together, you need him as much as he needs you.  You need him to feel alive; he needs you to fulfill his hungers.

He doesn't kiss you like it means anything. He doesn't kiss you like he has nothing else in the world he'd rather do. He is frenzied and feverish and his hands always roam expectantly. He kisses you to tell you he wants to fuck.

You miss Dave but you'll never see him again; he is dead, and you've long since stopped dreaming in the bubbles.

God, you miss him.

You doubt you'll ever truly love anyone like that again, especially if your only options for love are your gamemates. No offense to your friends, but you could never be that for them.

But Dick makes a good subsitute.

* * *

He used to eye you like you're the rabbit and he's the wolf.  He always held back around you--even though you can't read minds, you could feel the conflicting feelings in his heart.  One or two less than clean messages.  A charming, devilish smile and his shining blue eyes.  Broad shoulders, sturdy arms, all muscle.  He shows off for you and you find yourself looking more often than not.  As you two became closer friends in the game, it was harder and harder for you to deny that attraction to his devil-may-care attitude.

Divine intervention, though, came in the form of Dave.  But Dave is dead, now.  And as much as you trust your ecto-brother, or Noah, or Emmy to catch you as you fall apart over Dave and his sudden death and the terrible reality that you really, truly, can't be together, you also can't bear to worry them.  And you don't need their pity.  You don't want to be treated like glass, even if you feel like you're on the precipice of breaking.  You're the leader.  You have to stay strong for your friends.  

Dave would want you to move on.

So in light of this, Dick is the one you choose to hang around more often than not.  His carefree manner and lighthearted jokes make you feel some sort of semblance of normal.  Or at least, less-shitty.  And he lets you cry when you need to and all he asks in return is that you alchemize more cereal and milk for him and pet his head every once in a while.  He's a weird guy, but, even if he can be kind of a jerk on the surface with his blunt way of speaking, he's still sweet when he wants to be. 

Or when he wants something, you think, but you shake that off because that kind of distrust is the kind that will send your mind into an area of toxic thinking.  You don't need to be a fully realized Heart player to understand how many layers of Bad that is. 

* * *

It starts with this.  Your whole session's worth of eight has a sleepover at Beth's planet, simply because her house was suited more for gatherings than any of the other assortment of smaller abodes and apartments except for maybe your own.  You try not to have your friends over to LOFAH as much as possible, though--you know that Hestia's hearth and what lies therein still freaks them out and quite frankly, you feel the same.  So, Beth's house is the gathering place for squad movie nights or game nights or kickbacks or any other type of get-together with all eight of you and whatever snacks, booze, and other party accouterments that could be alchemized.

And so, with a fire in the fireplace and four of you on the couch, two of you crammed into an armchair, and you and Dick on the floor, you fall asleep lulled to the voices of Batman and Superman in the old DC cartoons from your youth.  Beth's favorite.

This, you all remember quite clearly, and you are glad of this because it's always weird to see your own body sleeping soundly so you try not to think too hard on that and turn your back on yourself, deigning instead to enjoy this dream.  You throw open the door and take off towards the sky.  You don't really know where you're going since the dream bubbles seem to have no rhyme nor reason, so you just enjoy the journey rather than focus on any kind of destination.  Instead of any of the sprawling ruins all over Beth's planet, you find yourself in--oh my.

You find yourself in Hestia's hearth, one step of grass and into the ash and soot that you've grown so accustomed to.  You sigh.  So a nightmare it is.

You venture deeper into the yawning cavern, illuminated with soft, peach pinks and bright oranges and pale yellows as the light dances on the walls.  You note the tomes and furs on the walls, the bowls and bottles full of mysterious substances, and the hearth itself, as large as you might imagine the hearth of a giant would be.  There's no sign of Hestia herself, which, you think is all the better.  You don't really want to talk to her at the moment--it would just make you even sadder. 

However, there is something that's... different.

"Dude. What the fuck is this?" 

There's Noah, standing on the mantle of the hearth, you floating before him, his blue robes of Breath almost purple against the firelight.  You chuckle nervously. 

"Hi, Noah." You say instead, landing next to him.

"No, seriously, what the fuck is this." He points wildly at the sight before you.  You squint.  That's... odd.

The soul splinter you left behind as part of Hestia's Ultimatum is sobbing in her sleep.  She doesn't move, doesn't stir--looks not a day older than the tender fifteen you were all those years ago and there's not even a tear or stain in the clothes you wore that day.  She's a perfect copy.  She's crying.

"Uh..." You say dumbly.

"Very helpful." He replies. "You're crying too, you know."

You touch your cheek.  Damn, he's right.  "Soul splinters, empathy, you know, Heart stuff." You say lamely even as your voice trembles.  

He puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you close to him.  "I fuckin'... tried to wake you, well, that you over there, as you do when your friend is having a nightmare, but you just wouldn't wake up." 

"Thanks." You mumble.  The two of you stand there in silence, watching your doppelganger.

"It's Dave," You finally say, "Because of fucking course it is.  My splinter's crying because I'm still mourning." 

"As you should be. It hasn't been that long." After he speaks, Noah is quiet. You can't think of what to say.

He speaks again, "Are you sure? With Dick? Are you sure that's. You know. Gonna be okay for you?"

"I know, I know but." You sigh again, turning your back on the splinter much as you did your sleeping self at Beth's house.  You kind of hate being a Heart player sometimes. "I don't feel as numb anymore. I was even having a good time.  I've been feeling better, since I started hanging out with him."

"Good." He says gruffly, then he turns to you and says, "You've been doing better. You were... glowing, tonight.  It was kind of irresistible. It was almost like having the old you back."

"Only kind of?" You ask jokingly.  

"Well, maybe more than that." Noah looks at you. The sadness in his eyes is silent but palpable.  "You know I care about you, right?"

"Yeah..." Your voice is so small when you reply.  Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden.  He's holding back again.  Waiting.

"You're worried." You suddenly say.  He raises an eyebrow at you.

"Well, yeah." His arm shifts to hold you around the waist. "I know we all need somebody to hold at night. But I don't want Dick to be your version of self-care. Or self-harm. Whichever the case may be."

You nod, and acknowledge your friends' worries. With one last glance at your sobbing, nightmare-plagued splinter, you promise to take a step back from Dick and try at putting your grief to bed. 

* * *

 But despite that, you have no excuse for the way it escalates after that.

You're laying on the floor and Dick is on the bed, both of your bodies are bare. You stare blankly at the ceiling light and the Light symbol sprawling out decoratively on the fixture. Dick sits facing the window. You lay on the carpet considering your sin as your skin crawls with vulnerability.  
  
It's like Adam and Eve, you think distantly. You're only doing this because you're one of the last human beings alive.  
  
"You're one of the best people I've ever met." He whispers in the darkness. "You can meet a douche like me and not like me at first and then give me a chance anyway."  
  
"I wanted to know you." You reply. "I'm glad I did. I think you're pretty great."  
  
"You deserve everything." He pulls you into a hug.  
  
"I'd give you everything." You mumble back.  
  
You bask in this, the feeling of two wounded people huddling together, two people who love each other without being in love with each other. Security.

* * *

 Your current state of affairs with Dick is only to fill the void that Dave has left behind. The conversation you'd had with Noah in Hestia's hearth echoes in your head every time you two are alone.

"Hey, sweetheart, what's up, you don't seem so into it today." Dick mumbles against your neck. You sigh and gently scrub your nails against his scalp in the way he likes.  If he was a dog, his tail would wag.

"I'm just. Thinking." You respond, leaning back against the armrest of the couch.

"About?" He prompts, raising his head to meet your eyes.

"Dave." Your voice breaks as you say his name. You smile sadly. "Sorry. It's rude to talk about another guy when I'm with someone else, right?"

"It's okay." Dick replies, his eyes unusually soft. "I think about Lynn a lot. Not as much lately. But I get it."

"It's still fucked up." You sigh. "We have these people we loved, loved enough to take on the end of the world for the hope of seeing them and now--" you bite your lip. "now we're _settling._ " you spit out with disgust. "And I'm just. So tired. Of settling. Of faking it. Faking being okay, faking being happy, faking being a functioning human being, faking being content on my own, faking being over the fact that Dave is fucking dead and I will never, ever get to see him again." You take a deep breath. "I'm angry, because. I could see myself, in the normal world, being happy with him. But." You shake your head. You don't say anything. As sudden as your outburst started, now the words won't come as if your momentary anger drained them all away.

"Damn." Dick mutters finally. He sits up and pulls your face into his chest. "That. Really sucks, kid."

"I'm so fucking angry..." you whisper, trembling silently in your fury. "I just wanted to love and be loved, I wanted us to be happy, and this fucking GAME!" you look up at him, eyes blazing.

He stares back down, uncertain.

"I'm sorry." You finally say, turning away.

"Hey..." he catches your chin and makes you look him in the eye. You falteringly meet his gaze.

"You know, I really do care about you. I might be a douche, but I'm not a total tool." He says. 

"I never said you were." You mumble.

"I know, I'm just--listen to me, dammit. It's... Okay to settle sometimes." He pauses, and you stare at him expectantly.

"Sometimes..." he repeats, "Sometimes you just gotta make due. Not everything is ever gonna work out all happily ever after and shit. You know?" You nod. He sighs and lays back down in your lap and places your hand back on his head.

"Thank you." You sigh. "You've been a great friend to me throughout all this. And I think I've figured some stuff out." He looks up at you expectantly as you shakily inhale.

"I guess I'm saying I'm okay with you moving on or messing around or whatever. If you want head scratches, at the end of the day, I'll still be here to do this. You're a good friend, so. Whatever happens... I won't be too hurt. Just want you to do what makes you happy and stuff, even if it necessarily doesn't involve doing me." You scrub your nails against his scalp as you talk, staring out towards the wall and the Van Gogh reproduction tacked to it. The flowers almost seem to sway as you stare. Gaining your confidence, you finally put your feelings to bed.

"I don't want to keep going like we have been. I need to heal, and I need to allow myself to grieve and I think I need to be alone to do that. I'm sorry." You finish.

"Shit, girl. I'm proud of you." Dick smiles and plants a kiss on the inside of your wrist. "Takes a lot of balls to admit that to yourself. Give yourself some credit."

"I intend to." You answer, but pause. "At least... I intend to try... after Dave, I don't know if I could ever love a normal guy again, if I could ever love anyone who hasn't been a part of The Game."

Dick's quiet for a while and you think he's fallen asleep when he says quietly, so quietly you think you imagine it, ".... Me too. I don't know what I'm doing sometimes. I don't." He sighs. "I don't know what I'm gonna do. I never knew what I wanted to do in the real world."

The gravity of his uncertainty weighed heavily between you. "I'll be there to help you. Beth too. And Noah. And everyone, we'll be there, Dick." He soothes you.

"I don't wanna rely on you guys for everything." You say, and he shakes his head.

"Two years in this game, and you still haven't learned how to rely on your friends." He chuckles, but his face grows serious.

He sighs. "No, seriously. I'm not used to having friends like you guys either. Having people I can actually rely on. Y'all are like this... overly loving, rainbow support group." You snicker as he continues. "And you... you're one of the kindest, warmest people I have ever met and you deserve the whole world. Someone who loves you and would go down on you." He finishes, and you don't answer but with a small thanks as you smooth his hair back. He just grumbles and you resume petting his head. But you consider what he's said as he dozes on your lap.

You wonder.

Dave would want you to be happy, right? You close your eyes. Nine months...

Your phone buzzed.

Your phone buzzed again. And it kept buzzing and buzzing. You reached over and silenced it instead and shut your eyes for a long nap.

...

* * *

Your name is Dave Strider and you are not dead yet. But you have this strange feeling that maybe, you should be.

You have this odd sense that something is off about the meteor. Sometimes looking at Vriska makes your skin crawl with wrongness but you can't imagine why. Time seems to flow fine around you. Karkat says it's because she's an unrelenting spiderbitch who has no business poking into yours. You think that's fair enough.

But the issue remains that something is weird; you have weird dreams about bad dogs and two swords in your chest, you have an odd sense of relief when you see your sister and Karkat alive, but you don't really know why.

Something is definitely off. Karkat agrees, mumbles something about Blood and bonds that is completely beyond your understanding. Catching your confusion, he rolls his eyes and tells you to ask a Heart player.

You decide to message breezyArtisan, in hope of getting the opinion of an expert in Heart.

* * *

When you wake up, Dick is gone. You're not surprised; he hates sleeping anywhere that isn't his own place, and you're definitely surprised that he stayed as long as he did, especially given that you'd ended your affair with him.

You stretch away the stiffness from the way you slept. Your phone buzzes again and as you glance at it, you almost faint. 

17 new messages from Dave.

TG: yo so  
TG: some weird time shit happened  
TG: not sure what but i can feel it  
TG: crawling in my skin  
TG: these wounds they will not heal  
TG: anyway shitty linkin park references aside  
TG: i just felt like i should check in w you  
TG: havent gotten a hold of you for a while  
TG: kinda miss you  
TG: okay thats a lie i really miss you  
TG: like shit im about to flip my shit  
TG: flip it so tight like a fuckin omelet or some shit  
TG: babe are you there  
TG: guess not  
TG: normally you respond by now  
TG: how long has it been your time?  
TG: if i missed a year i s2g  
  
You set your phone down, not believing your eyes.  
  
Dave died.  
  
Dave is dead, you know, you saw his eyes, they were white.  
  
BA: Who the hell is this?  
BA: Do you think this is funny? Haha wooow good prank!  
BA: Well I'm not laughing.  
BA: Don't you think it's fucked up to make someone talk to their dead boyfriend?  
TG: wait  
TG: dead?  
BA: Dave died nine months ago. I talked to his ghost. Heroic.  
BA: Feel like an asshole yet?  
TG: wait but  
TG: if im dead then how am i messaging you now  
TG: fuck this must be some timeline shenanigans again  
TG: must be why i feel itchier than kid at summer camp  
TG: you werent supposed to touch that plant jimmy  
TG: leaves of three leave em be  
TG: but   
TG: what happened  
BA: Dave died nine months ago. Don't make me relive it.  
TG: im sorry but  
TG: im here now  
BA: no you're not  
BA: you can't be  
BA: I mourned you

BA: I cried for you.  
BA: I grieved, I shut myself away from my friends.  
BA: Jesus Christ, I started fucking around with Dick just so I wouldn't be alone at night anymore  
BA: Dave Strider died and I had to pick up the pieces of myself he left behind.  
TG: dave strider is alive and right here  
TG: he wants to talk to his girlfriend  
TG: and tell her that he loves her  
TG: and that he's so fucking sorry that this game fucked you over again  
TG: babe i am so fucking sorry  
  
You sob. Your voice cracks. And you're crying so much that you can't breathe, you can't see. You're so glad.  
  
TG: babe?  
BA: I'm here  
BA: just crying my eyes out.

You laugh. Of course. You hate this game sometimes but oh, sometimes it gives you the world.  When you tell Noah, he hugs you tight and tells you how happy he is for you. 

"You haven't smiled like that in months," he tells you, and you laugh wetly because it's true.  

You do love Dick very dearly and want the world for him, but you don't want to be with him the way you want to be with Dave.  It's just like Dave said.  You'd search all of paradox space for him if you could, if it meant just one more chance of talking to your Dave, not an alternate timeline Dave that doesn't even know your name.  

You hate this game sometimes, but sometimes, it gives tenfold for every time it takes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you were wondering, yes, this is why the sylph in save file 01 was having weird visions of dick in previous chapters c:
> 
> the comments you guys have been sending me are so sweet! it really makes me happy that someone out there enjoys this self-indulgent piece of garbage ^u^ bless your hearts, you sweet little things


	12. night thoughts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you wonder a bit about serendipidity, in light of new understanding of how love works.

You have trouble sleeping.

You always find yourself not sleeping enough or sleeping in excess. It's... kind of annoying, actually. Your mind keeps you awake, and if it's not that, your Heart powers always find a way to do something weird. Your dreams, for instance.  They haunt you in ways that carry over into your waking life, Dave being the prime example of such.  He snores softly next to you, a reassuring presence in the dark that lulls your mind to near peacefulness.  Your eyes are heavy, and you think that maybe you might be able to get some rest tonight.

But right now, you're awake and actively thinking on something, so you doubt you'll actually sleep for a good while. You tug your earring absently as a half-forgotten dream (memory?) slips through your mind. The haze doesn't lift though, and you shrug it off, deigning instead to focus on your bedmate. 

You can't see him properly like this, with his chest pressed firmly into your back, so you carefully turn in a way so as to not disturb him.  He shifts his arm with your movement, seamless, without missing a beat as he so often does.  The orange city lights cast a glow upon his skin through the blinds.  You see the faint outline of his nose, his bare shoulders, his cheeks.  His eyebrows are knit, his jaw seems tight.  You brush his forehead with your fingers, caressing down his face.  Dave's face settles into something more peaceful.  You smile to yourself.  That's better.

You nestle your cheek against his chest and listen to his heartbeat.  Steady, steady pulses.  Predictable.  Rhythmic.  A metronome of Dave's life.  You press your lips to his chest, and close your eyes. 

Whatever dream you may drift into, there is always this.  A Sylph, a Knight, wrapped around each other, underscored by their heartbeats. 

The Game had been all about serendipity and duality.  Just and Heroic.  Space and Time.  Waking World and Dreaming Dead.  The Game had been all about fate, destiny, design.  Mobius reacharounds.  Ex machinas.  Roles given for you to grow into and adapt as the game forced you into a better you.  You wonder what, exactly, your role was if you were to be forever haunted by souls and roles and alternate timelines blurring together at the edges as the game stitched each and every one of your friends back together until you were one singularity again.  A record, perhaps, of the events that took place prior to this world's creation.  You are like a ship drifting aimlessly through the sea of memories and deeds and choices that you see every time you close your eyes.

And if you are the sea then Dave is the lighthouse, a shining beacon cutting through the fog and guiding you back home.  Just as he appeared so suddenly into your life, he cuts through all the bullshit and helps you find yourself underneath all the built up scar tissue you've hidden yourself underneath all these years. 

You take a deep breath.

You fall asleep, a slumber that is restful, and for once, mercifully dreamless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heartbeats has been a cathartic way for me to work out a lot of terrible emotions and traumatic experiences over the past few years. dave has been an outlet for a lot of that bad shit, a way of escapism and a way to dream away a lot of the things that have led me to where i am today.
> 
> sometimes though someone comes along and like dave for the sylph cuts through all the bullshit and fog and helps put everything back into perspective. for me this was many someones, which have grounded me and taught me how to heal and i am forever in their debt. 
> 
> laying awake next to my boyfriend this morning as he slept with the dawn illuminating his face in a periwinkle blue, I wondered how the sylph may have felt looking at Dave on sleepless nights and mornings. I can only hope I can find a love like hers and the one that her iteration of Dave have found.


End file.
